


leather & ribbon

by ceraunos



Category: Black Sails
Genre: BDSM, Christmas, Light BDSM, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, black sails winter prompts, don't be fooled by the hint of plot at the start, this is all just sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 02:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16801846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceraunos/pseuds/ceraunos
Summary: Black Sails Winter Prompt: Mistaken Presentalso a fill for bskinkmeme 347: Dom!Thomas gives Silver as a present for James.~There’s an elegant black box tied up with ribbon in the bottom of Thomas’ sock draw. James recognises the manufacturer's initials embossed on the lid, knows what those letters feel like pressed between leather and skin.





	leather & ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> It's your classic love actually scenario, James finds a present he never actually receives.

There’s an elegant black box tied up with ribbon in the bottom of Thomas’ sock draw and James knows this because he found it when he was looking for the emergency bottle of lube that’s normally hidden there. He hasn’t told Thomas he’s found it, wants to keep the illusion of surprise alive, except his fingers twitch to look again. He recognises the manufacturer's initials embossed on the lid, knows what those letters feel like pressed between leather and skin, tight and heady against his neck.

It’s confusing, though, because this is the sort of thing Thomas normally makes sure they discuss at great lengths beforehand. He’s the one more involved in that lifestyle and James just goes along for the, admittedly very enjoyable, ride. He is, however, rather attached to his current collar so the fact that Thomas has bought a second is mildly baffling. It doesn’t stop the short, sharp, press of want every time he thinks about it sitting untouched and waiting, though.

He doesn’t forget about it during the weeks running up to Christmas, only makes a conscious effort to push it to the back of his mind. It’s only late on boxing day, when they’re sprawled out feeling over fed, over tired and a little hung over that James realises the box hasn’t made an appearance yet. It’s not surprising, they had guests yesterday and today has been mostly clearing up slowly and frequently opening the fridge only to groan at the amount of left over turkey. Yet as they crawl into bed James can’t help but wonder what Thomas is waiting for.

When, after three days Thomas still doesn’t say anything about the box James begins to spiral slightly. He knows, logically, that it’s more likely Thomas has just forgotten or is saving it for the right occasion, and yet niggling doubt tickles at the back of his mind with whispers of another man. It’s only made worse when, in a moment of madness, James checks the draw and finds the collar missing.

It’s new year’s eve and James feels paranoid and tetchy, like something viscous crawling all over him, and Thomas has definitely noticed. They’re being short with each other, snapping about whether James wants to go out that evening or not and James just wants to crawl into bed so he doesn’t have to think about how ridiculous he’s being. The problem is, he trusts Thomas absolutely and completely which makes the idea that something is going on even harder to consider.

In the end Thomas drags him out for a walk, under the pretence that they’ve been cooped up for too long and James pretends to agree that that’s what’s got him so tangled and waspish. He knows Thomas knows that isn’t the case, they’re too close like that, but Thomas mercifully doesn’t press and James doesn’t have to put suspicions into words just yet.

Bundled up against a biting wind they walk in almost silence, James scowling at the pavement and Thomas texting almost constantly. It’s unlike him to not pay attention to the world around them, to let his attention be preoccupied while they’re alone and James longs to lean over and read whatever Thomas is so intent on writing. Except he keeps his eyes on asphalt and tries not to taste the bitter cud of speculation.

James’ knuckles turn red with the cold and Thomas begins to sniff constantly and it doesn’t take long before they end up at their regular haunt: an indie bar downtown that’s dark and calm, completely empty and playing soft festive music. It makes James feels his chest relax just a little at the vision of normalcy. It lasts all of three seconds. Then the bartender appears and James’ breath catches in his throat, closely followed by a wave of guilt so strong he wonders if he’s going to be sick. How can he even think about accusing Thomas of having an affair when he reacts this strongly to a fucking bartender. The little shit is wearing a shirt open so far down his chest James wonders why he bothered putting it on and has tinsel draped around his neck and tangled in his hair, twinkling under the cool lights. There’s a moment when, without thinking, James goes to touch, just slightly, before he catches himself.

When he turns around Thomas is watching him with a gentle smile and he wants to weep, confused and ashamed.

‘Hello,’ Thomas says ‘good Christmas?’

‘Mm,’ the bartender hums low in his throat and James’ stomach jolts. The way he looks at James, the way he _always_ looks at James, suggests he’s trying to take his clothes off by manner of telekinesis.

Thomas steps forward, closer than should be comfortable with someone whose name he doesn’t know, and kisses the man light and soft in the way James knows so well. James freezes, his head spinning, and wonders if he’s in some kind of waking dream because he never imagined Thomas would be so bold as to flaunt something like this in front of James.

Then the tinsel slips and James catches a glimpse of something familiar around the man’s neck, leather darker and stiffer than his but unmistakably the same. A cold, furious horror breaks out in his chest at the same time that a flood of need hits his stomach like a low punch. The collar creeps out from under his thick curls, the colour so similar it’s almost unseen except for the glint of metal; a delicate loop, resting against the hollow of his neck and James has never felt so desperate to reach out, to catch it between fingers and bring this gorgeous, awful man to his knees. He wants -

‘- James?’ Thomas is asking calmly, his fingers pressing into James’ palm firm and steady, when James comes back to himself. His mind is short circuiting, unsure what to do with this new information and juddering between hot fury and hot arousal – as much as he wishes he could quell it. ‘Darling, are you alright?’

‘You’re having a – with him?’ James manages to croak out.

‘Oh.’ Thomas breaths, his expression blown wide open in surprise. ‘ _We’re_ having an affair with him. Both of us. Is that why you’ve been so miserable lately? Where on earth did you get the idea that -’

‘You kissed him! And there was the box and then there wasn’t and I thought… wait, _we’re having an affair?_ ’

‘If you’d like. We don’t have to, but you did say you wanted him and we’ve discussed the idea of someone else?’

‘I said I thought he was attractive! How did you get this from that?!’

‘I seem to recall that you said you wanted to know what he’d taste like, amongst other things. If you really don’t want this, we can forget -’

‘No!’ James jumps in, suddenly frantic. All sense of anger and confusion dissipates in the face of an overwhelming surge of need. ‘No, I want. I want to,’ he half-whispers, so gone with desire.

Thomas beams, tangling his fingers through James’. ‘I did leave clues. I hoped you’d find the box and I mention John quite a-’

The bartender, who James has yet to look away from, coughs unsubtly. He thrusts a hand out.

‘John Silver.’ There’s a hint of something quick and wary and potentially dangerous about him that James can’t place. Except when he smiles, broad and dazzling, James forgets it immediately.

‘James Flint.’ He hopes his hand, the one not still clinging to Thomas’, isn’t too clammy. They sort of get stuck, though, the moment they touch, suspended in an instant of half-breaths. It takes the the chime of the door and Thomas in James’ ear suggesting they take this elsewhere to break them apart.

Silver shivers the entire walk home, teeth chattering clumsily, until Thomas convinces him to swap coats, giving him his sturdy woollen one in exchange for Silver’s flimsy leather jacket that’s barely thicker than the silk shirt he’s wearing underneath. Thomas runs warm and James doesn’t doubt he’ll be comfortable in just Silver’s jacket, except when he shrugs it on James is almost stopped in his tracks at the slight of him in tight, too small, leather. He looks… different. Less proper, more roguish, and there’s a promise of debauchment in the image. James finds himself thinking about what it would be like to sink to his knees right here, right now, in the middle of the street and give himself up entirely. He catches Silver’s eye and by the heat there and the way his fingers are playing lightly with metal at his neck, he’s thinking much the same thing. James swallows and Silver picks up the pace of his steps significantly.

There’s a moment, when they get through the door, that no one knows what to do in. Silver toes at the heals of his shoes and James busies himself with turning the Christmas tree lights on and waits for Thomas to make the next move. Thomas leaves Silver’s leather jacket on and makes three cups of tea, which is as jarring as it is baffling.

‘We ought to have a conversation,’ Thomas says, eventually. ‘I didn’t anticipate anything actually happening this evening, to be honest.’

Silver lets out a whispered whine at the prospect and then promptly looks horrified at himself. James reaches out, finally allowing himself to touch properly, letting his fingers linger on the soft leather, tracing its curve around Silver’s neck.

‘May I?’

Silver nods and James leans in and kisses him, gentle and probing, exploring the shape of his lips, the taste of his tongue. They pull apart, breathless and it’s instantly not enough.

‘Can I kiss you again?’ James asks.

‘Please,’ Silver says, and then quieter adds ‘whatever you want.’ So James does, more desperate than before. He’s aware of Thomas watching them from the side and it only spurs him on, until he’s flushed and half-hard. When Silver’s hips roll into him slightly it takes every ounce of self control to step away; because regardless of Silver’s plea to take whatever he wants, Thomas is right, they do need to discuss this first.

Thomas steps in, the brush of his hand against Flint’s arm like oxygen to a flame.

‘Would you like this off, while we talk?’ he says to Silver, who shrugs pliantly and lets Thomas’ fingers unbuckle his collar, sliding it off to place on the coffee table.

The moment it’s off Silver transforms somewhat, settling to slouch into the sofa, relaxed and confident. James watches him watch the way he and Thomas interact, sees him deducing, calculating and clever, the dynamic between them. He raises an eyebrow, just fractionally, when Thomas sits himself on the arm of James’ chair, draping himself half over James’ lap. They’re not one hundred percent predictable, James knows. He wonders is this is going to be a problem. The way Silver winks at him, though, suggests it isn’t going to be.

They’re not complete strangers, Silver has flirted with the pair of them enough to be familiar. James realises he’s going to know a very strange set of information about this man by the end of the day; casual titbits learnt at the bar – such as the fact that Silver has a stray cat called Randall who he hates but still feeds every night – and intimate sexual preferences – such as the fact that Silver has been known to slip into a semi sub-space with surprising ease. There’s a flash of mild envy that runs through James at that confession, it’s not something he can do and he’s always wanted to know what it would be like.

Thomas runs off their hard limits with ease and then brings out his phone, scrolling through it.

‘John’s already given me his.’ Thomas passes the phone over to James, who scans the extensive notes document. No blood or extra fluids, no permanent marks, no knife play, and so on. It matches the handwritten list in James’ top draw almost exactly. ‘There’s nothing extra you’d like to add?’ Thomas asks.

‘Nope.’ John pops the p ever so slightly.

‘We use traffic lighting or three taps if you can’t verbalise. If you need a back-up safe word, it’s Ashe.’

‘Ashe?’

Thomas and James share a complicated look, full of unspoken history, before James speaks a half truth. ‘The least sexy person we know. A real mood killer.’ Silver laughs, full and loud and the tight warmth in James’ stomach grows, as if trying to reach out to him.

‘This is all consensual. It only happens if we’re all on board with it, no hiding or pretending for someone else’s sake. You can back out at any time, there'll be no judgement for it. Alright?’

‘Yep.’ Silver definitely pops the p this time. The effect is lost though, when he adds ‘I’m yours as far as you’ll have me,’ in a much softer voice than James had been expecting.

‘James? It’s a bit of a rush for you, if you want time to think -’ Thomas is cut off at James’ quiet chuckling. ‘What?’

‘I had assumed the collar was going to be my Christmas present. But this is so much better.’

‘Merry Christmas.’ Thomas’ fingers play with James’ hand, knocking their wedding rings together.

‘Perhaps you should have tied me up in a bow,’ Silver cuts in.

‘Perhaps I should.’ There’s an undertone to Thomas’ voice, something low and heated and it sends a rush of arousal through James. At it, John has stilled completely, fidgety hands resting loose and ready on his lap, his back suddenly straight.

Thomas’ hand goes to the collar on the table and in one swift motion Silver is suddenly kneeling on the floor, a perfect statue of submission.

‘Oh,’ Thomas breaths. ‘oh darling, aren’t you good,’ James hears him whisper to John as he refastens the collar around him. There’s a moment where James feels something awful, his insides turning as he wishes he knew, instinctively, how to be like that for Thomas too. Except then he notices that Silver’s not positioned himself facing Thomas at all, but so he’s kneeling a foot or so from James, eyes flicking briefly up to him. Then all James feels is such a strong wave of want that he is dizzy from it.

‘James, why don’t you show John upstairs and get him undressed? I’ll join you in a moment.’

James is on his feet without really thinking, holding out a hand to help Silver up off the floor. He can’t resist the urge to sweep Silver’s hair to the side and press a kiss to the nape of his neck, lips brushing against the edge of leather, and Silver shudders full bodily under him.

James removes each item of clothing with care, taking his time on each button to brush fingers over the skin below. Silver stands perfectly still, waiting patiently, but James can see him breathing shallowly through half-parted lips, eyes already less than focused. He tells Silver to remove his own jeans, not wanting to accidentally touch too close too soon; the air between them feels like a live wire, ready to spark at any moment.

As he hears Thomas on the stairs, James strips perfunctorily, tearing his eyes way from the slight of Silver already half-straining against soft cotton. The line of his cock is unmistakable through black fabric and James wants nothing more than to put his mouth on it.

Behind them James hears Thomas put something down on the dresser, before pressing himself into James’ back, wrapping his arms around his chest. James is surprised to find him shirtless, skin hot against his.

‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Thomas mutters close to James’ ear and Silver practically preens under the praise. Thomas steps out from James and runs a hand down Silver’s chest, stopping to press at a nipple, and James watches Silver melt at the touch, eyes fluttering closed and mouth fully parting. Thomas places a thumb on his lower lip, dragging over it.

‘Go on.’ He turns to James and James doesn’t hesitate as he catches Silver between his teeth, grazing over the tip of Thomas’ thumb as he does. Thomas hums out a low, satisfied noise and tangles his hand in Silver’s hair, tugging slightly. James follow the arch of Silver’s neck as he tilts into the touch, pressing ever closer. Small needy whines are tumbling from Silver’s mouth onto James’ tongue.

They get lost like that for a long while, oblivious to anything but the newness of sensation and hot touch of skin. James can feel himself aching though, damp slightly against his stomach and steadily the need becomes impossible to ignore. With a hand on the small of Silver’s back and a finger hooked in the metal loop that sits in the hollow of his throat, he walks them back towards the bed. It’s only when he has Silver on his back, kneeling over him, that James realises Thomas hasn’t moved since earlier.

‘What do you need?’ Thomas says, coming to brush knuckles over each ridge of James’ spine. ‘Would you like to suck him?’

And oh does James what to.

‘Would you like that John? Will you let James do that for you?’ John straight up _mewls_ , back arching and hips jolting.

‘Please,’ he gasps. ‘Sir.’

The addition of the honorific sends an unexpected thrill of heat through James. It’s something he and Thomas don’t use, it’s never felt quite right between them, but now, hearing it from Silver, the tight arousal it causes is unmistakable. He would do anything to hear it again, and Silver seems to know it because he’s rewarded the moment he begins to mouth at him through his boxers.

‘More, please, sir,’ John pants with half broken words. His hands are alternating between scrabbling at the sheets and trying to pull Flint’s head closer, burrowing him between his thighs.

‘Ssh. Patience.’ Thomas comes to kneel behind Sliver’s head, pulling his hands away from James and holding them tightly in his lap. James knows that Thomas means for him to hold off too and he pulls away with great reluctance. He dips a finger under the waistband of Silver’s pants, though.

‘May I?’ he looks to Thomas, who nods. James is hardly delicate in removing them. He traces Silver’s cock with a touch so light he knows it is excruciating; it’s something Thomas often does to him. Silver cries mournfully, seeking further contact. Thomas soothes a hand through his hair.

‘Soon darling, I promise.’

There’s a second when they stay in that half touching tableaux, reeling in three separate arousals.

‘Alright, go on.’ Thomas says, after what feels like an eternity. As James finally puts his mouth around Silver its as if the world goes silent, all sensation lost beyond the taste of him on his tongue. He flicks his tongue over the tip, once, twice, and watches Silver buckle under him. He’s vaguely aware of Thomas moving around the room, but doesn’t have the capacity of mind to consider anything but taking Silver as far into his mouth as he can, feeling the stretch in his jaw, the slight burn at his throat.

Silver is making noises that only sound vaguely human, desperate whimpers and moans that suddenly cut off into a sharp cry. When James pulls away at that, Silver’s hips trying to chase his touch, he is caught by the sight of Thomas clipping a set of thin chained metal nipple clamps to the ring of John’s collar, one end already attached to his left nipple. Without thinking he reaches up a pulls, ever so slightly, at the chain. Silver yelps, James does it again. His hands have been tied with black silk, too, James notices. Thomas licks delicately at Silver’s other nipple, running the flat of his tongue over it before attaching the other clamp. Silver’s back arches so far off the bed Thomas has to catch him. James sucks at the pool of pre-come of the tip of Silver’s cock.

‘More. Ah. Please. I can’t. Much longer.’ Silver’s words are garbled and only part coherent.

‘Would you like us to take the edge off?’ Thomas asks, but Silver shakes his head against the sheets.

‘Colour?’

‘Gr-green. Please, please,’ Silver begs without finishing his request.

‘Would you like to be fucked?’

Silver nods.

‘I’m going to get you ready and then James’ll fuck you. Is that what you want?’

Thomas opens Silver up with almost unbearable slowness, taking it one finger at a time, stretching him until he’s writing on the bed, a litany of desperate moans pouring from him.

‘So good darling, you’re doing so well.’ He mutters to Silver, using his spare hand to run soothing lines up and down his waist. James sits back on his calves and strokes himself lazily, careful not to let himself get too close to the edge. He barely has to touch himself at all, though, with the scene playing out in front of him.

When Silver’s ready Thomas places a quick kiss on his hole before pulling James towards him and kissing him so deep that James sinks into it and becomes lost in the familiar comfort of it. The vague taste of Silver between them, though, is electric with promises of what’s to come.

Thomas reaches up and unclips the nipple clamps, silencing Silver’s shout with a kiss. James bends over him to suck at each nipple in turn, the metal chains brushing against his own chest gloriously.

Thomas parts Silvers legs and positions them so that James is bracketed by his arms, back to his chest, cock nudging Silver’s entrance. He’s hot and tight, even after Thomas’ work, and the feeling as he sinks into him is exquisite. Silver clenches and unclenches around him and James has to take a few steadying breaths before he begins to thrust shallowly inside Silver, giving him time to adjust. Thomas is still whispering praise to them, except it’s all become white noise in James’ ears amongst the rushing of blood.

He can feel Thomas’ cock pressed against his back, hard and leaking slightly. Thomas rakes his nails down James’ forearm bringing a deep groan from James and leaving a trail of light red marks in his wake. James sees Silver’s eyes widen and then flutter closed as Thomas repeats the action, but on his lower stomach and down the inside of his thighs.

James tips his hips, searching for a deeper angle, and finds is in Silver’s moan that gets caught in his throat and turns into a wordless plea for more. James obliges, rocking into him steadily. When Thomas wraps a hand around Silver’s steadily leaking cock and strokes in time with James’ thrusts Silver begins to shake below them, thighs quivering, knuckles white against the sheets.

‘Please, please. I need, I’m going to -’ Silver cries out.

James is so close, too, mind sharp and focused on the rapidly building feeling, anticipating the tip into overwhelming pleasure. He thrusts into Silver hard.

‘Wait,’ Thomas says, suddenly, and Silver keens.

‘I can’t -’ James finds himself saying. He isn’t sure he will be able to stop now, though, no matter what Thomas says.

‘You’re alright, keep going,’ Thomas whispers to James, breath hot against the shell of his ear. He moves away, though, slightly, shuffling around on the bed until he’s kneeling at Silver’s head. ‘I wanted to be able to see better.’

James sighs in relief, feels Silver clench again around him and sees the forced concentration on his face to relax himself. He’s so obviously focused on obeying, on waiting, that when Thomas finally does say ‘ _come_ ’, soft and somehow still authoritative, Silver misses it for a second. Then his whole body tenses a final time around James, eyes flying open on a sudden inhale as he comes. James fucks him through it, continuing to thrust into him until Silver squirms against the sensitivity. Thomas is cradling Silver’s head and murmuring soft praises to him, observing the dazed, far-away look Silver has. James has never been so hard in his life. Thomas reaches out to him, pulling him in for a slow, long kiss.

‘Fuck me?’ James asks and Thomas moans low in his throat. Silver, even through his haziness, reaches for James’ waist and wraps his hands tight around him.

‘May I?’ he asks. James blinks, unsure what he’s asking for. ‘I’d like to open you up, with my tongue.’ James’ breath catches. ‘I’m very good at it,’ Silver adds, as if James needs more convincing.

‘You’re alright to do that?’

‘Mm-hm. Green for go.’

James looks at Thomas whose expression has glazed over somewhat. He’s finally removed the rest of his clothes during the conversation, too, and his cock is red and leaking against him. Thomas nods. James shifts, trying to anticipate how Silver wants to do this, except Silver grabs at his hips again and pulls him forward with surprising strength until James is hovering about his face.

‘Can I? Like this?’

James isn’t sure his legs will hold out long enough, but he’ll let Silver at least start like this, so he hums in assent. It’s a shock, then, when Silver pulls him down until he’s practically sat on the man, Silver’s trimmed beard rubbing gloriously against sensitive skin. At the first touch of his tongue, flat against James’ hole, James gasps. Then Silver presses in and James is lost to the sensation of it.

He’s dripping wet and shaking above Silver, back bowed and neck arched back when Thomas slides up behind him, wrapping an arm around his chest. With a tap to Silver’s cheek he pulls flips James over, kissing Silver when he whines at the loss of contact. James barely registers the change in touch, swimming in a cloud of arousal.

He notices, though, when Thomas pushes into him, lube mingles with spit but even so there is the hint of a burn, just on the right side of pleasure. Thomas kisses him and he can taste himself on his tongue. Blindly he reaches out an arm and find’s Silver, wrapping his hand around his already half-hard cock. A small, bizarrely conscious part of his mind, damns the youth and their stamina.

Thomas rocks into him, knowing just how to hit the point at which James cries out, vision blurring. They won’t last long, sweat slicked skin sliding together in messy tandem. Thomas’ hand joins his on Silver’s cock, although they can barely co-ordinate themselves to stroke effectively.

‘So good, so good for me,’ Thomas chants.

James comes harder than he would have ever thought possible, mind blanking into blackness as hot pleasure spikes through him, tumbling over the edge. He can vaguely hear Thomas cry out a few seconds later.

He comes back to himself to find Thomas’ mouth on him, panting breathlessly into him. James smiles and he can feel Thomas respond in kind against him. He blinks and sees Silver watching them, a contented, blissful expression colouring his face. James rolls over, managing to sit up enough to kiss him.

It doesn’t take long for Thomas and James to bring Silver to a second completion between them, hands and mouths covering every part of skin possible.

~

When the first of the new year’s fireworks begin to explode in the distance, lighting up the curtains in a myriad of burnt gold and silver, Silver is tucked in James’ lap. Thomas reaches around from where he’s got James pulled against his chest and carefully unbuckles Silver’s collar. James sees the maker’s mark faintly embossed into skin and he runs his knuckles over it. He’s distantly aware of Thomas tucking the item away into his sock draw and he smiles into Silver’s hair, drifting contentedly in the quiet warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> ?????? i don't know where this came from, i'm a human who might actually be a little asexual???? pls be kind x
> 
> If anyone wants to join in with the winter prompts countdown, the list is [here](http://ceraunos.tumblr.com/post/180381811328/black-sails-winter-prompts)


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